Twenty Four Months
by s82
Summary: It takes two years to go from Tim Drake to Robin. Now Complete.
1. Calm of Mind

Author's Notes: Here's the deal. I was getting hit left and right with snippets from Tim's training/life as Robin. I soon realized that they could be organized in such a way to mark progress. And so this piece was born.

The premise is following two years of Tim's training. As a comic-continuity note: Technically, Tim could have been considered to train for a little over a year with Bruce. This includes the time he spent with Dick, "training to be a partner," but not his time abroad. So, as you can gather this piece is more AU than not (thanks to those who answered my inquires about the timeline).

It was a lot of fun to write though. Posting should be about twice a week until all 24 are up.

Just as a last note, each month should be just about 500 words (I figure I had to constrict myself somehow) except for the last one, which is about a thousand. Really, you can count 'em. :-)

Do enjoy. And FB is great.

………

24 Months

………

Sixty-three million, seventy-two thousand seconds

One million, fifty-one thousand and two hundred minutes

Seventy thousand, five hundred and twenty hours

Seven hundred and thirty days

Twenty-four months

Two years…

For the birth of a Robin.

………

Calm of Mind

**September**

Tim wasn't sure how training with Bruce was going to work, but this certainly wasn't what he expected. At the oh so very early hour of 5:30, Tim made his way to the Manor. Alfred had let him in with a welcoming smile and told the boy that Master Bruce was in the study. The teenager felt his anxiety build as he walked closer to the room. This was his first official day training to be Robin. Would he get the handle a bat-a-rang? Would get to see the Cave? Would he make a good impression on Bruce? All these questions swam in the teenager's brain and with a shaking hand, he opened the door. Bruce sat in an over-sized chair and didn't offer any greeting other than to tell Tim to sit cross-legged on the floor and not to move. With a fair amount of confusion, the teenager did as he was told. Moments later Bruce got up and left.

For three hours Tim sat wondering what on earth he was suppose to do. He didn't rise though very quickly he found his mind wandering. It wandered to thoughts of his mother and father, he thought about Bruce's parents and even Dick's and what impact the death of a parent seemed to have on each of them and their quest to be vigilantes. He thought about Jason (_a lot about Jason_) and, lastly, Tim thought about what Robin meant to him.

After a while, Tim's brain began to move away from those rather over-powering thoughts and wander more readily to the 'when would Bruce get back?' line of questioning. Minutes began to drag ever so slowly to the teenager and he felt himself get antsy. He began to tap his foot and twiddle his fingers in boredom. Two more hours passed, during which time Tim played numerous word association games in his head, and finally he reach the point where had to relieve himself. As quietly as possible, he snuck out of the study and, upon returning to the room, he saw Bruce sitting in the chair he had occupied five hours before. The teenager looked guilty at his mentor and opened his mouth to speak, but Bruce beat him to it.

"Patience is the first lesson. Without it you are nothing more than a risk every time you're out on the streets."

With that Bruce rose and left the room. Tim watched him go and then turned himself back around. Feeling like a failure only five hours into his training, the young boy felt at a loss what to do. So, he did the only thing he could think of.

Taking a deep breath and releasing it with a sigh, Tim lowered himself back onto the ground. He crossed his legs, rested his hands atop his knees and closed his eyes. His breathing became deep and his heart rate slowed which each passing minute.

Eight hours later, Bruce came back to get him.

Tim hadn't move.


	2. Swing Batter Batter

_Swing, Batter Batter_

October:

"Again."

Thunk

"Step and again."

Thunk

"Step and again."

Tim withheld a sigh and grabbed another baseball. Taking a moment to aim, he let the ball fly and wasn't surprised when it hit the target for the tenth time in a row. The exercise was getting monotonous and Tim didn't know what the point of it all was. He had started a mere ten feet away from the target and now found himself around twenty feet away. He could have hit this target when he was ten _and_ not under the pressure of Batman.

Thunk

He hated to admit it, he felt that it was an entirely useless exercise. He understood that Bruce was getting him geared up to deal with bat-a-rangs, but somehow he didn't think that baseball tossing was going to help. He knew that a baseball and a 'rang were completely different objects. He didn't see, nor understand, how learning to throw a baseball would help him any.

"Step and again."

He knew that Bruce had some sort of greater plan in all this, but it took a lot of restraint not to speak out about the absurdity of the exercise. He felt his mind wandering and knew he wasn't concentrating. He also knew that meant that Bruce knew it as well. Still, suppressing the sigh, he took the baseball and threw it.

Tim heard the thunk and already began to take the obligatory step back when his mentor spoke.

"You have to concentrate," Bruce said as if having just read Tim's mind. "This is not a pointless lesson no matter what you might be thinking."

Bruce grabbed baseball and tossed it in his hand. "You must be able to throw a bat-a-rang with enough accuracy to remove a gun the is being held to a hostage's head from a hundred feet while falling head first and releasing a grappling line."

The baseball was released and hit the target dead center.

"To achieve this, you have to learn how to work with motion and movement." Another ball was in the older man's hand. He released it and, as Tim watched the ball he was surprised to see another hit the first which causes both balls to sail wide of the target.

"This is not only about throwing a ball at the target."

Tim watched Bruce grab another ball and toss it to him. Catching it, the teenager stared at it for a long moment. He finally held the ball and _really_ felt it- its weight, circumference, threading... He bounced it once in his hand and then threw it high into the air, it came down and when it was level with his hand, using his palm like a bat, he hit the ball towards the target.

Thunk

Quickly grabbing three more balls, Tim slowly began to juggle them and then sent all three, in perfect secession to the target.

Thunk Thunk Thunk

Finally, he seemed to understand the lesson a little more.


	3. Sometimes You Learn the Hard Way

_Sometimes You Learn the Hard Way_

November:

Tim hit the floor hard and closed his eyes against the flash of color that swarmed his vision. He took a moment to calm his breathing and gather his thoughts. Of course, gathering his thoughts wasn't very easy since, for the last two hours, he had been pounded relentlessly.

The teenager opened his eyes and saw Bruce standing over him.

"Up."

The command was simple, the act not so much. Stifling the groan that threatened to fall from his lips, Tim got to his feet and ran a hand through his sweat-drenched hair. He'd known from the moment he took this job that he'd be entering into the most physically demanding experience of his life. He had seen Bruce, Dick and Jason on the streets and knew the skills they possessed came from years of training.

Tim was prepared for that and looked forward to being able to fight even close to their level. But he didn't think that he would be thrown in to the fire without preamble.

Bruce had told Tim that the skills that Batman and Robin had were from years of experience, but many of them were from mere instinct. And so, Bruce told him to change and meet him on the mats. As soon as the teenager's first foot was on the white pad, Bruce attacked.

Tim was on the ground in two seconds from a swipe at the ankles. He landed solidly on his back, the air knocked out of his lungs, and gasped for a good thirty seconds before he heard Bruce's voice.

"Always be prepared. Up."

Tim did as he was told and as soon as his back was straight a fist came at his face and the only thing he could think to do was move. The fist flew next to his check and he turned wide eyes to Bruce.

"Instinct," was all the older man said.

Tim's instinct, however, didn't react fast enough to the uppercut and, again, he found himself on the mat. The dance of Tim getting hit, tripped or somehow else thrown to the mat by Bruce continued for two hours in utter silence. Sometimes Tim would react with agility and speed and somehow avoid the hit, kick, or whatever else Bruce threw at him, but a majority of the time, the teenager was not so lucky.

Finally three hours into it, after Tim received a strong kick that left him on all fours panting in the middle of the mat, Bruce spoke.

"Shower and clean up," Bruce said as he walked away. He was nearly up to the Manor when he spoke again to Tim.

"On top of being able to avoid a hit, you have to learn how to take one." Tim raised his head to look at Bruce. "Sometimes the only way to learn that is to experience what happens when you don't know how."

As Bruce's steps retreated the teenager shook his head realizing that Bruce had just intentionally beaten him up.


	4. Target Practice

_Author's Notes_: Thank you for all the reviews. I'm glad everyone is liking this "story." The quotes are there because it's really more of snippets that don't really flow together. I do hope that as they progress people can begin to see the changes that Tim goes through especially as he begins to repeat exercises (for example, this is his second throwing lesson).

Thank you again each and everyone one of you!

………

_Target Practice_

December:

For the twentieth time Tim watched his bat-a-rang fly a good two feet to the side of the target. He held in the curse and, instead, stomped over the snow piles to retrieve the black object.

His training for the day was going miserably. When he came to the Manor, Alfred handed him a shoe box filled with four bat-a-rangs and a note from Bruce instructing him to go out back and practicing aiming and hitting the target that was set up.

"He isn't going to tell me how to use them first, is he?"

The butler gave a soft smile and said, "I believe he wishes you to figure that out."

"Of course."

Tim headed out back without another word. It wasn't until he reached the backyard that he realized Bruce wanted him to throw bat-a-rangs (which he didn't know exactly how to handle) at a target outside in _December_. Shaking his head, Tim looked at the vast whiteness of snow that lay before him. In perfect timing, a biting breeze hit Tim in the face full force. The teenager found the targets and the giant 'X' Bruce had made about 100 feet away.

Attempting to forget the cold, Tim grabbed his first bat-a-rang and let it fly. Unlike the twentieth bat-a-rang that he had just released, the first one traveled a mere foot before falling pitifully to the ground. Five bat-a-rangs in, Tim finally realized how to throw one to get it to travel any distance. By the tenth he had learned how to throw them so that they flew well over the target. By the fifteenth he had worked out how to control the distance. And now he had to learn to control the direction.

It was on the 35th bat-a-rang that he finally heard the thud of it hitting the hay target. It didn't stick (rather bounced off rather uneventfully), but to the teenager that didn't matter. The other three bat-a-rangs followed that one, all of which bounced off the target.

Tim let out of whoop of victory and laughed to himself.

"Hitting the target alone isn't enough."

Tim jumped at the sound of Bruce's voice behind him and turned quickly to stare at the older man guiltily.

"You have to know where to hit, how much force to put behind it, and how to control every movement of the 'rang."

Bruce pulled his own weapon from a pocket and Tim watched in amazement as it flew gracefully through the air towards of one of the trees that sat off in the distance. It hit a leaf (one Tim could barely make out) and then struck in a branch with the leaf pinned against the bark.

"You've been out here five hours and it's cold. Go inside."

Tim continued to stare at the tree and then back at the target he had been hitting weakly.

"No," he said and heard Bruce's steps stop. "Show me."

With his back to the teenager, Bruce smiled.


	5. Agony

_Agony_

January:

There had been very few times when Tim wanted to cry over something painful, but this was nearly one of those times and it took sheer willpower to remain in check with his emotions and keep at the exercise.

Tim felt his legs begin to shake and resisted the urge to wipe the drop of sweat that was falling in his eye. But if he did that he would lose what little support his arms offered and, truly, he didn't want to know what would happen in that case. Feeling his breathing pick-up, Tim closed his eyes and attempting to calm himself.

He finally felt his body stop shaking when Bruce's voice broke his concentration.

"You need to go lower," Bruce instructed and Tim was only marginally aware that, for once, the older man was not growling out instructions. In fact, the teenager realized, Bruce's voice was closer to Wayne than he had ever heard it before while in the Cave.

_Maybe he feels sorry for me_, Tim thought while he attempted to do as Bruce ordered. He moved down about another two inches and felt the piercing pain shoot up his leg. He gritted his teeth and thought for a moment about going lower once the pain had subsided. He moved slightly and then completely forewent that plan.

"Lower."

Bruce hadn't forgotten the order, however.

"I. Can't," Tim admitted between his clenched teeth and, for the first time since his training started, admitted a defeat. He heard Bruce move around behind him and felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Your muscles are stretched enough, I've made sure you won't hurt yourself," the pressure on his shoulder suddenly increased and Tim felt, much to his chagrin, his body begin to lower. "Breath and release," Bruce coached and the teenager did as he was told. "Concentrate on something other than your muscles. Relax."

Finally Tim felt himself sitting on the ground, and although it was painful, not nearly as bad as he thought. He wasn't completely certain how he was going to get up, but what mattered was being down.

"Dick has been the only one who did not have to work at flexibility and even he spends an hour before patrol stretching. Everyday you must work at it or you will lose it. Your body must be ready and able to compromise itself at a moment's notice on the street and the only way to be prepared is to cover all your bases. Now, up and we'll move on."

Tim didn't like the idea of having to contort his body to 'cover all bases,' yet in spite of that he slowly, and very ungracefully removed himself from the splits that he had just half put himself into and half been put into. As he stood he felt his hip pleasantly pop itself into its proper place and wondered how long it would be till his body was okay with such unnatural positions and worried it never would.

………


	6. Free Falling

_Author's notes_: Although Robin training didn't deal only with the physical aspect of things, for the first beginning months (and more to follow) that will be a huge theme because, in my eyes, Tim already came to the team with the strong ability to be a detective. Don't worry, though, that aspect will be dealt with.

_Free-Falling_

February:

There was a gut-check moment as Tim felt his body fall without any resistance. He also had a sanity check moment in that same instant since he had willingly jumped off the ledge. Tim involuntarily gasped and reached quickly for the grapple gun. His hands shook uncontrollably and as soon as he fired the gun he knew it wouldn't catch anything, so all he did was prepare for impact.

Two seconds later his body landed with a solid thump on one of the large mats that littered the back area of the Cave. The teenager released a groan and sat up shaking his head as he caught his breath. Though the mats and his preparation lessened the impact, it was still rather jarring. Tim looked up to the perch that he had just jumped off of and saw Bruce standing at the ledge. The older man spoke down to Tim.

"You jumped without a plan. You must know where your hook is going to attach before you make any move. Only in the most unforeseen circumstances should you not know where to aim."

With that Bruce jumped and Tim listened to the grappler's release and watched as the older man slowly landed next to him. Every movement Bruce did was effortless and Tim wondered how many times he had made that particular leap with the others Robins.

"I don't know the ledges," Tim began in his defense as he got to his feet.

"And you don't know the city, but you will learn it. You will never leap without knowledge," Bruce nodded back towards the ledge and Tim began to make his way towards the top again. As the teenager climbed, Bruce continued to speak.

"Everything out there must be planned. With every move you make you must know the consequences. You must know all your options. You cannot go into a battle, a leap, or even a conversation without being prepared.

"Things will arise that are unpredicted, but in some part of your brain you will be prepared for it. There is _nothing_ out there that we shouldn't expect."

Tim reached the top of the ledge again and looked out at the dark cave. It was hard to tell the difference between walls, nothingness and ledges, but he looked anyway. He fingered the grappler in his hands and suddenly saw his path. _Second ledge on the right has an outcropping large enough to grasp_, he thought to himself as he continued to scan. Tim pictured the flight, release, hooking and slow decent. He then found another ledge; one he could attach to should his first plan fail and he then traced that path. The teenager smiled as he jumped.

This time he landed softly and soundly next to Bruce on the mat.

"You'll be able to do that with your eyes close one day," Bruce said and pointed back at the ledge.

Tim happily climbed back up.


	7. It’s a Topsy Turvy World

_It's a Topsy-Turvy World_

March:

_I'm going to break my neck_, Tim thought as he looked at the blue spring mat and gently shook his head. _This is ridiculous_, he thought but began running anyways.

"This is the _easy_ beginner's tumbling," Bruce had said, though Tim found it hard to believe this could ever be considered easy. The tumble began with a front handspring… which Tim landed and tried to follow with a twisting front flip.

That one he landed on his butt instead.

He bounced a few times and finally stopped with a curse. Shaking his head again, he got to his feet and moved to the opposite end of the mat to try again.

Tim had once seen Dick in the middle of a fight twisting and flipping his way out of danger and wondered how Dick could fly while on the ground.

It was this picture of Robin's maneuvering that kept Tim motivated to work on the floor even with all his failures. It had taken him a good hour to be able to land a front handspring with enough speed to even have the chance at another movement. And now he was working furiously to get the twisting flip added on.

Running again, he completed the handspring and managed to not land on his end side with the twist, but also didn't get it all the way around and softly crumpled to the ground. Thankful he wouldn't have another bruise, Tim stormed his way to the other end of the mat again. He knew that Dick had to have come to this same mat and gone wild with the acrobatics. And here he was, not even able to string two moves together.

"You need to release your frustrations," Bruce said from the sidelines as he walked to the center of the mat. "You aren't Dick and, in truth, never will be." Tim had long ago stopped wondering how Bruce seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. "But gymnastics aren't all about showmanship and flashy moves. They are about getting yourself into the best positions to attack or retreat."

Bruce took a knee in the middle of Tim's running path. "Handspring, full front flip."

Tim didn't have the heart to tell Bruce that he'd only practiced one flip that resulted in him landing very neatly on his face. Instead he took a deep breath and ran. The handspring went well and he barely had a moment to think before he flipped. He felt Bruce's hands on his back help him over and before he knew it, he had landed on his feet.

Tim looked at Bruce with pure amusement on his face. He had felt amazing for that single moment as his body flipped even if Bruce had helped.

"Your body will learn how to do this on its own, but until then it just needs a little help."

For the next hours, Tim tumbled as best he could with Bruce's help and, by the end of it, he felt a little bit of hope rise in him.


	8. Proper Handling

Author's notes: _Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. I am glad everyone likes the series and letting me know. Just as a note, this is another one of those 'mark the progress' entries (dealing with a bat-a-rang, fyi). See, I did have _some _idea of how this fic would advance._

_Cheers!_

………

_Proper Handling_

April:

Bruce took another bat-a-rang and threw it at the teenager. Tim watched its path as best he could, attempting to see when the opportune moment to catch the black object would arise. He made a move to catch the 'rang and cursed as the black object sliced his hand and kept moving.

Tim looked at his hand and watched the thin line of blood rise up and spill lightly over his palm. The young man closed his hand into a fist to stem the bleeding as Bruce walked up to him and grabbed his hand. He looked it over once, grabbed some gauze from a random pocket and began to wrap it.

"The bat-a-rang is only dangerous when you don't know how to use it. Its edges are actually quiet smooth when held properly." Tim's hand was now bandage and Bruce dropped it.

Tim listened to what Bruce said nodding his head, having already heard this particular chat. "How do I _learn_ to use it?"

The older man had gone back to his spot and picked up another 'rang. As he threw it, he spoke. "The hard way."

Tim longed to duck, but instead made a move to try and grab it again. Once more it sliced across his hand. The teenager growled, but didn't bother to look at the appendage.

"You can't catch a 'rang like a baseball. You have to realize that there is a proper way to stop the motion."

Tim cocked an eyebrow at Bruce uncertain what the older man meant. Bruce, in answer to the look, threw two successive bat-a-rangs wide of Tim's body. The teenager watched them both and realized that one did in fact travel counter-clockwise and the other clockwise.

"The bat-a-rang has a curved back on one end and is sharp and inset on the other. Now, which side do you catch?"

Tim instantly answered the curved side.

"Wrong. That is how you slice your hand. By catching it in one of the grooves you stop the momentum of the 'rang and the knife like side won't slice your palm."

A bat-a-rang flew at Tim and the teenager realized it flew clockwise making it easier to catch in the groove. Tim's hand jutted out and he felt the 'rang land in it. He looked down at his hand and was surprised to see a 'rang resting peacefully in it without a new wound. The teenager took the 'rang and threw it back to Bruce with ease. The older man nodded his head and returned the object. For the next half-hour the two of them continued to throw 'rangs back and forth. To an observer they looked as if they were in a continuous juggling cycle. Finally, Bruce held onto both bat-a-rangs.

"Now you're on your own."

He then turned and left Tim alone in the Cave with a stack of bat-a-rangs. The teenager realized he now had to learn to throw to himself.

It was going to be a long night.


	9. Inner Peace

Author's Notes: _Because it is my spring break (yay) and I'm just relaxing at home this means no (real) law work for 7 days I'm going to try and post almost every other day. I mean there are 15 more posts to go still and when I get back to school it's gonna go by fast. Enjoy!_

………

_Inner Peace_

May:

_I think I've been here before_, Tim thought to himself as he sat cross-legged on the floor of the study. Quite reminiscent of his first trip to the Manor, the teenager found himself left alone while Bruce went and did… whatever it was he did.

Tim knew this time to not move until he was told to and found that the hours passed a little more quickly than they had the first time. His kept his concentration from wavering too much and before long heard Bruce enter. Tim opened his eyes and turned to look at his mentor.

"Come, it's time you meditated."

The teenager stood and followed Bruce.

"But I thought that's what I was doing," he said as he walked down the Cave steps.

"You were merely passing time. I bet you continually thought about something. Your mind was active that entire time even if your body wasn't." Bruce stopped on the last step and faced the teenager. "You have to learn how to silence your mind. In meditation you should enter a world that is devoid of all sensation; it is your retreat and the place you work to rejuvenate.

"Once you can reach that level, you will become better at controlling your meditations and using them to control pain, slow your breathing and pulse. Once you possess these capabilities, meditation can mean the difference between life and death."

Bruce began to move again and Tim followed, not entirely certain what the older man was talking about, but aware he was about to find out.

The two of them moved to a secluded corner of the Cave. Two mats sat on the ground facing one another. Bruce took a seat and Tim took the other without a word.

"Close your eyes," Bruce instructed and Tim did so.

"Slow your breathing. Inhale and exhale when you hear me do so." The teenager listened intently and began to mimic Bruce's extremely slow intake and outtake of air. Tim felt himself get comfortable with the rhythm and began to keep it on his own.

"Look at the darkness before your eyes and calm your mind. Focus on listening to the sound of your breathing and nothing else." Tim began to feel his body relax to the point that he felt like he was drifting off to sleep and yet he didn't feel tired.

"Keep your focus…" That was the last bit of advice Tim heard.

Three hours later Tim felt himself slowly awake from the deep meditation. He opened his eyes and blinked multiple times to clear his vision. He saw Bruce sitting at the computer.

"You did well. I know that you were merely in a void and probably feel like you've been asleep." Bruce swiveled around and looked at Tim. "That will go away and you will begin to control these sessions and learn from them, but for now you must understand that meditation and merely standing still are two distinct things. Do you?"

Tim nodded his head.


	10. Pre PreFontaine

Author's Notes: _Admittedly this is my favorite post. I think it stems from the fact I can relate (in some sense) to this training. Also, this was actually one of the two or three scenes that I had in my head before I began writing so that might have something to so with it as well._

_And, btw, the title is a tribute to my favorite runner; Steve Prefontaine for those who didn't catch it._

………

_Pre Prefontaine_

June:

There was only one thing that Tim felt he brought to this whole Robin thing which was running. He enjoyed it and was generally good at it. With his parents traipsing all over the globe, as a young boy he had spent many days out in the woods running along the trails.

And so when he had begun Robin training he wasn't too worried about the running aspect. He knew that it would be a lot harder than he was used to, but he wasn't really prepared for it to be this bad.

Mid-June in Gotham was generally in the high 80s with humidity around 50. It wasn't too bad if one was out for a mild stroll. However, when one was in the middle of a ten-mile jog on the black asphalt, it was murder.

Tim wiped a hand over his face and wasn't the least surprised it came back damp. The distance wasn't the problem, or well it wasn't the main problem.

Bruce had told him to begin running five miles after his first day of training. The teenager took that advice and ran an easy five miles now at a little over thirty-five minutes. Today was his first time running under Bruce's tutelage.

His mentor met him out front of the Manor in running gear. Tim dropped his backpack and Bruce began stretching without a word and Tim followed suit. Ten minutes later, Bruce straightened.

"Let's begin," the older man said took off running. Tim blinked once and then caught up with his mentor. Only a few minutes into the run and the teenager realized his easy five milers hadn't prepared him for this. Bruce pushed a grueling pace and Tim felt his first cramp at three miles. At five he no longer cared about keeping any sort of patterning with his breathing. Miles six through nine were a blur to him and by ten, as they came to the Manor, Tim never felt such joy in his life.

He came to a staggering halt and resisted the urge to fall on all fours. Bruce grabbed a towel that Alfred had left out and dapped the few spots of sweat. He handed a towel to Tim who had slightly given into his urge and rested his hands on his knees, still panting heavily.

"That was a 6:40 pace, by next week I want you running at 6:25. By the end, you will be able to run a marathon with at a 5:30 pace," with that Bruce walked inside and left the teenager alone. As soon as the front door shut, Tim gave in and fell to the dirt with a groan. He knew he needed to stretch but right now, all he wanted to do was cry.

There was no way he could pull off a 6:25 mile for ten miles let alone twenty-six miles at 5:30.

Tim rested his forehead on the dirt and sighed heavily into it; he was going to be so sore.


	11. Learning to Read

_Learning to Read_

July:

Tim stretched his arms high above his head and was satisfied when his spine released a series of pops. Lowering his appendages, the teenager hunched himself back over the plethora of papers that sat before him.

Bruce had now begun to introduce Tim to Gotham as he had never seen it. Spread out before the young man sat stacks of maps covering various aspects of the city. Most of them he could figure out where they were mapping, but then there were others that looked like a foreign country to him.

For example, Bruce had maps that covered the underworld of Gotham. Tim never knew there were so many sewers, let alone that they all connected to one another. _Does he really think I'm going to go traipsing around in the sludge, _the teenager thought with a cringe.

There were also maps that indicated different routes for nighttime travel that Tim wasn't even certain how they worked. They all had a colored line on them, which seemed to wind itself randomly around the city.

The teenager sighed and looked at the maps again. He wasn't certain what he was supposed to do with these. He'd spent the last two hours tracking different paths, but not entirely certain if they were correct or even do-able and he certainly hadn't learned anything.

"Route two point three," Bruce said from the darkness causing Tim to jump slightly.

"What?"

"Tell me how route two point three goes. How you get from start to finish, what equipment you would need and what problems you foresee."

Tim was tempted to say that he foresaw the problem that he didn't know what Bruce was asking, but withheld that. Instead he closed his eyes and attempted to re-call the map of routes he'd seen.

"It starts uptown at north station, from there it head north…west to Memorial Hospital…"

"How would you get there?" Bruce interrupted.

Tim licked his lips as he thought. "Uh, grapples," he said uncertainly.

"What buildings would you use? Where would you go on foot?"

The teenager shook his head indicated his didn't know.

"You have to know all these answers at the drop of a hat. I don't need someone who has to stop and think about routes before we head out. You need to know every aspect of this city. Now, you're under 5th street how do you get yourself out to 10th?"

"Uh," Tim said as he thought about the sewer maps. He opened his mouth to make an attempt, but was interrupted again by Bruce.

"I'm going to be back in an hour and expect you to be able to answer any questions I have."

With that Bruce walked away. Tim watched him and then turned back to the maps. With a sigh the teenager placed his fingers on one of the maps and began to trace and path and talk to himself.

"Begin at Memorial, grapple to Lutheran South Church. Leap to and climb up the warehouse on Stark and 1st…"


	12. Lake Side View

_Author's Notes_: Just a check up with my thanks-yous to my readers. I am so glad everyone is still enjoying this story and I hope you guys stick around for the continuing saga, a.k.a. Tim's torturing introduction into the world o' Robin.

_Lake-Side View_

August:

The teenager looked at the loaming mansion and slumped his shoulders. He had now been in training for nearly a year and could feel his body and mind growing tired. He'd been beat up more time than he could count and more often than not he collapsed into bed utterly exhausted and yet unable to sleep.

And then there was his mental state. For all of the physical extremes he had been through, his mind was taking the true beating. Every night he felt less and less like the Robin he was suppose to be growing into and more like an utter disappointment. For every task Bruce put in front of him, he was met with failure at each attempt.

It was disheartening to say the least.

And yet everyday he came back to the same house to face another task put before him. He only hoped that one day soon he would begin to feel more like a success and less like the utter disaster he felt he was.

Tim knocked (as he always did for some reason) and was surprised to find Bruce answering the door in leisurewear instead of Alfred.

"Hey," he said uncertainly in greeting.

"Come with me," his mentor directed and walked across the front lawn without another word. Tim followed slowly trying to figure out what the job for the day was. He was surprised when he found himself staring at a small, clear pond with a blanket and small basket filled with food sitting on the ground.

"Alfred felt that it was time for you to take a break." Tim quirked an eyebrow at the older man in question. Bruce gave a soft smile, "You've been doing good and deserve this."

The teenager hid his shock well and spoke in an unwavering voice. "Uh, well, thanks," Tim took a seat and opened the basket. "Holy cow," he said as grabbed out one of the multiple dishes. "I think Alfred went a little over-board."

Bruce said nothing and slowly began to make his way to the Manor, content to have done what Alfred asked (_instructed_) he do.

"Hey Bruce," the older man turned and looked at Tim. "You want to eat some of this." The teenager laughed slightly. "There's no way eating all this is going to improve my running times."

Feeling completely out of place, but also drawn to share a moment with his newest charge, Bruce moved to the blanket and took a seat. The two feel into a companionable silence as the lunch was slowly served. The past and hopefully future crime fighters spent the afternoon discussing things unrelated to Batman or Robin and it was relatively painless.

They talked about politics, about school and work and even about the weather. It was the first time that Tim remembered being in Bruce's presence since knowing he was Batman and not feeling like he was being tested in some manner.

It was one of the quickest days Tim spent at the Manor.

………


	13. A New Routine

_Author's Notes_: Well, we are at a year now. I purposely didn't make this month anything special; to me the training (even though the story is) isn't about time passage, but about growth. Time has no meaning in this world; all that matters is the training and reaching the peak of it.

That being said…

Sorry for the delay. Crazy-time at school this past week (and this week won't be much better), but thank you to everyone who has stuck around. Hope you continue to do so for another 11 posts. :-)

……….

_A New Routine_

September:

Tim felt his body swing around the bar as his momentum grew. When it reached its peak, Tim released the bar and completed a quick flip landing solidly on his feet. He smiled to himself and walked off the mat.

"You need to take more risks," Bruce said from the sidelines. He'd watched Tim execute his bar routine with relative ease. The teenager, though not as naturally inclined as Dick, had a strong sense of balance and didn't necessarily mind taking on new maneuvers that could end painfully. However, Tim also had the mindset to only work with what he had been told to do. Bruce gave him a routine and Tim followed it to the T. The older man remembered giving Dick the same routine and how the young boy worked on the bars for an additional fifteen minutes pulling out all the stops.

It wasn't that Bruce wanted another Robin who took unnecessary risks... after Jason that was the last thing he needed. But he also needed someone who wasn't confined to do what was safe.

Tim walked over to Bruce. "Risks?"

"Yes," Bruce moved over to the beam that sat in the middle of the gym area. "You have to be able to try new things while working within the confines of a safe arena. When outside you have to know what you are capable of beforehand. Now," Bruce jumped onto the beam and began a slow routine. "Do it again and find your own style."

Tim shook his head with frustration. Half the time Bruce wanted him to follow his orders without question and other times, he changed and allowed Tim freedom. The teenager wondered if he would ever be able to know exactly what his mentor wanted. Figuring he wouldn't, Tim jumped onto the bottom bar and began the routine.

Flowing through the moves, Tim began to think of changes he could make. Throwing in an extra flip or twist here and there, the teenager began to feel his body relax and he found that he could do more than he thought. Tim released and, instead of the single flip, flipped and twisted only to re-grab the bar and keep his swing. He smiled and prepared himself for the dismount.

Gaining speed, he released and attempted a double flip with a twist. However, he misjudged the amount of speed needed and found himself landing hard on his hands and knees on the mat. Tim felt his wrist collapse under his weight and instantly knew he'd sprained it.

Cursing, he sat back on his butt looking at his wrist as it swelled slightly.

"Now you know what you cannot do," Bruce offered a hand to the teenager.

Tim followed his mentor to get his wrist taped while shaking his head. He could think of many other ways to figure out what he couldn't do that didn't end up with something sprained. But still…

He now knew some more things he could try when he was better.

………


	14. Changing of the Guard

_Author's notes_: We're going a tad AU here. You'll see why soon enough, but this is probably one of the most notable un-following comic book post, although there is a quote form the books.

Enjoy!

………

_Changing of the Guard_

October:

If he was honest with himself, this was the most frightful moment of the Robin training thus far. Tim swallowed and held the box tightly in his hands. Taking a deep breath, he placed the object on the nearby chair and took a seat in another. The teenager stared at the white box and then leaned forward, placing his face in his hands.

He never thought that this moment would come and, in fact, he still wasn't certain this was real. For years he had fantasized about being able to wear the Robin outfit and fight along side Batman. He had always told himself that he would never – _could_ never - reach that point. And even when he had sought out Dick, he never expected to be offered this job. He only wanted Batman to have a Robin- _any _Robin.

But here he was. Tim raised his head and reached for the box.

Dick Grayson had made this costume a legend. Tim could never live up to Dick and all that he represented.

Jason Todd had died in it. Nothing Tim could ever do to even come close to making such a sacrifice.

So here he was. Tim Drake - Robin III. What was he suppose to do with these responsibilities? What kind of Robin was he supposed to be? Opening the lid of the box, Tim stared at the Robin costume sitting and shook his head.

He was insane, yet he still reached in and began to remove the suit because this is what he wanted. And _needed_.

The Robin costume unfolded itself causing Tim cocked his head to the side.

He smiled.

Tim wasn't Dick or Jason, but he _would_ find his own place in this crazy world.

Slowly releasing a calming breath, the teenager began to undress.

Bruce and Alfred stood out in the main area of the Cave waiting for their young charge.

"Is he ready?" Alfred asked as he discretely dusted.

"He will be," Bruce assured just as they heard the soft steps of Tim.

"Gentlemen," the teenager began and slowly walked into the light. "May I introduce your new Robin…"

Tim stood before them in the redone Robin outfit. The green mask, though it hid the sparkle of excitement in his eyes, did nothing to hide the smile that covered his whole face.

The short pants were gone, replaced by long green leggings. There were no more little boots, but now steel and split toe boots to help with balance. A black cape with yellow accents flowed behind Tim.

He was a new Robin; he his own Robin.

Tim grabbed the cape as he turned around to face the older men. "Thank you," was all he said and all that he could.

It wasn't time for him to be on the streets, but just wearing the costume was enough to make him realize that soon it would be.


	15. Piece of Cake

_Piece of Cake_

November:

In full costume, Tim stood on the top of a Wayne skyscraper. He walked to the edge and looked down laughing nervously to himself. The teenager turned back and looked at Batman with a shake of his head.

"You're kidding right?"

Bruce shook his head. "You have to do this by yourself at some point, so do it now while I'm here." Unsaid was 'so I can catch you and you don't die,' but Tim was glad that Bruce didn't add that.

The teenager stood at the ledge and ground his boot-covered foot into the cement roof. "Okay, so what do you want me to do?"

Batman moved next to Tim and pointed to a building that was about a block away and thirteen stories lower. "Get there," he instructed and moved back from the ledge giving Tim room.

"Right, no problem," the teenager mumbled under his breath and grabbed his grappler.

"This is no different than the Cave. See your path first then leap. You will learn how to improvise soon enough."

Tim looked out at the city and tried to ignore the dizzying height he stood at. "Fall for ten, released towards flagpole, swing towards building, release and land on the building," the teenager said to himself figuring out his path which was, relatively speaking, easy.

Without a thought (because he was certain he would chicken out if he paused to consider what he was doing) Tim jumped. He'd free-fallen many times in the Cave, but for some reason knowing that the harsh pavement now replaced the soft mats, made Tim's mind go blank. He watched the stories fly past him and felt his heart rate increase. All too soon he had missed his ten-story cut off.

_FOCUS!_ His mind screamed at him and finally the teenager shook his head.

He could do this.

Grapping his grappler, Tim fired it at a random ledge feeling it hook, causing his body to swing straight towards a brick wall. Twisting while on the line, the teenager used his other hand to get another grappler out. Spotting an overhanging fire escape above him and across the street, Tim fired at that and began to climb upwards. He spotted the roof he was supposed to be on again, and with an upward pull (to keep momentum), he discharged his line, falling once more in the direction of his landing. This time he took one of his loose ropes and lassoed the same flagpole he had seen earlier. Unfortunately, unlike a grappler, the loose rope didn't begin to wind in, so Tim found himself coming in faster than he'd planned. Knowing he could do nothing to slow, Tim hit the roof, rolled uncontrollably and finally came to a stop on his back in the middle.

"Ow," he said as he heard Bruce softly land next to him.

Batman said and offered a hand to Tim as he said, "Or you can improvise now." Tim wasn't certain but he thought he heard laughter in Bruce's voice.

"Now," the older man said as he pointed to the Gotham library a good mile away, "get there." Tim looked at the target, cracked his neck, stepped back a bit, took a run at the ledge and then leapt.

He would be caught a total of ten times that night, but at the end of the night when Bruce said he had done well, Tim realized that sometimes you had to be caught before you knew how to fly.


	16. Like They're Sleeping

And we just keep moving on. :-) Before I do though… Delia Ra'Nar, as for Batman giving Tim the suit, in the comics he does give it to him and then send him on the streets. For me, I figured that Tim might need a bit to get use to it and the different sense of balance and all that, thus my AU there. Hope that explains the choice a bit.

To all other reviews, thank you once again for all the kind words. They mean a lot to me and help me to know that people are still enjoying the series.

_Like They're Sleeping_

December:

The room was freezing. Tim put his hand to his lips and blew attempting to warm them. Looking around, he found the morgue was just as depressing as it looked on television.

"Come here," Bruce ordered sharply. Tim turned and found his mentor standing before a large black bag. Mentally sighing, knowing what was held in that bag, the teenager moved to stand beside Bruce.

"Not everything about being Robin deals with fighting," the older man began keeping his eyes set on the bag. "We're also here to solve murders and, more often than not, this is what we face," he gestured to the body bag. "You have to get used to seeing death."

Tim nodded his head as Bruce grabbed the zipper. "This is a twenty-five year old man. He was in the Crows area and found out the hard way they do not like trespassers."

The bag opened and instantly the teenager felt his stomach clench and he had to resist the urge to look away.

_Breathe_, he told himself as he looked the dead body over. The man had been shot three times, once in the shoulder, neck and upper forehead. His body had turned a pale blue and the bullet holes had become slightly puckered. Aside from those features, however, the man looked rather peaceful.

"This isn't the death you'll see on the streets," Bruce said as he gestured at the man's face. "There will be blood and gore out there. There will be people who are dying as you reach them and there is nothing you will be able to do to help them. You have to comfortable with death. You have to be able to separate any emotional reactions you have to seeing the dead and dying because, when you see them you are the only source of companionship to the dying and the only person able to find the killer of the dead."

Tim removed his eyes from the dead body and looked at his mentor. "How do you get use to it?"

Bruce zipped the bag and moved to another table without answering Tim's question. He opened the newest bag and the teenager's eyes fell on a middle-aged woman who looked like she had been beaten to death with a baseball bat. Unlike the first victim, this one still had blood splattered on her not yet having been properly cleaned. Tim looked closer and saw that a part of the woman's skull had been crushed in and…

_Dear God, that's her brain!_ Tim thought and instantly backed away from the body, nearly tripping over his own feet. He felt all color drain from his face and swallowed the rising bile. Bruce re-zipped the bag and stepped to the young man.

Placing a hand on the teenager's shoulder he spoke, "The only way we get use to it is by seeing it everyday and remembering that these are no longer people, but victims whose murders need to be solved. We have to remember that we now fight for them and are their only hope of redemption."

Tim nodded his head and ran a hand through his hair. Bruce looked at him a moment longer. "You okay?" He asked, unwilling to stop the lesson but also not wanting to have Tim utterly traumatized.

The teenager looked his mentor directly in the eyes. "I'll get there," he promised and moved in front of the next table.


	17. Straight out of a Book

_Author's Notes: _I am in the midst of law school finals (fun times, let me tell you) so I don't know when the next post will come. I want to get at least 1-2 more out because, well, after finals I will be going to Prague for a month to study and, as much as I would love to post there, I am more than certain I will not have time.

So though it's still a few weeks away, I apologize in advance for the delay that will happen from (about) May 20th till June 22nd. But, till then, enjoy this newest post!

_Straight Out of a Book_

January:

Bruce was insane and possessed _way_ too much trust in Tim's abilities, that was all there was to it. The teenager nervously tossed a bat-a-rang from hand to hand while shaking his head. Yes, he had been handling and throwing 'rangs for months now, but surely Bruce didn't think he was ready for… _this_.

Looking across the field, Tim saw Bruce standing against a tree with (the teenager mentally groaned) an apple resting on his head.

_This is the most messed-up version of William Tell I've ever seen_, the young man thought.

"I really don't think this is a good idea," Tim yelled.

"You will be throwing 'rangs at attackers and have to learn how to control them to do the least damage. More importantly, though, those 'rangs will be thrown in the vicinity of victims. A mistake is not allowed.

"You've been throwing for months now. I've seen your target practice and there's nothing more you can learn by throwing at inanimate objects. You need get learn how to throwing under pressure."

_And throwing them at your head gives me just the right amount of pressure_, the young man thought with a rolling of his eyes.

"You also have to get use to throwing them at people while under such pressure."

Sighing, Tim took his stance and got ready to throw knowing there was nothing he could say to get out of this. Aiming, he released the 'rang and instantly cringed knowing it was going to be too low. _I'm going to kill Bruce with his own bat-a-rang_, the teenager thought horrified.

There was nothing to worry about of course and as the 'rang came at Bruce the older man plucked the object out of the air before any damage could be done. Without a word, Bruce threw it back at Tim and it landed directly in front of the teenager.

"Don't waste my time," his mentor said in a voice just shy of a growl. Dejectedly, Tim bent and picked up the 'rang. Shifting his body and hold on the 'rang a bit, he threw it. Like the arrow in the story, Tim's 'rang landed solidly in the apple, slicing it neatly in two.

"Better," Bruce said and grabbed one of the slices from the ground. Holding one end in his hand, he extended his arm. "Now remove the apple from my hand."

Tim felt his mouth drop open. "I can hardly see it!" He exclaimed while squinting his eyes.

"You know where my hand is, adjust from that. The apple is now the butt of a gun. You have five seconds…"

Bruce began the count down.

"5"

Tim quickly grabbed a 'rang.

"4"

Setting his feet, Tim raised his shaking hand.

"3"

Adjusting and measuring quickly…

"2"

Tim released the 'rang. It flew just as Bruce was mouthing one, and hit the end of the apple causing the fruit to be sliced neatly out of Bruce's fingers.

"Good," his mentor said while Tim placed a hand to his chest and took a deep breath.

Bruce grabbed his bag of apples and moved back a good twenty feet. "Again."

…


	18. The Scum

_Author's notes: _Hiya. Well I'm now down with law school and am back from the month summer study in Prague. It was an amazing trip and a great experience and now I'm back here unemployed which means this story will quickly be posted.

Hope everyone is doing well and enjoys the next post.

_The Scum_

February:

_I'm drowning_, Tim thought while he looked at the piles of papers that were still scattered before him. Over six hours ago, Bruce had lead Tim into the Manor's library where were piled in neat little stacks that stood nearly as tall as the teenager. There had only been enough space for Tim to make it to the lone table in the room.

"You will have the hard-copies for today only. They will be burned at midnight."

The teenager looked at his mentor. "What am I suppose to do with them?"

Bruce gave the young man a smile that froze Tim in his tracks. "Remember what you did with the maps?"

"I memorized…" Tim didn't bother completing the rest of his sentence.

"These are my files that cover the gangs, drug runners and other repeat offenders of Gotham. I expect you to have them down by the time I am back."

Against his better judgment, Tim spoke, "What about the other files? The Joker, Two-Face, other Arkham inmates…"

Bruce cocked an eyebrow, "Do you want me to get those as well?" The teenager looked at the stacks and negatively (and enthusiastically) shook his head.

"I think these will do."

Bruce left without a word and Tim got to work.

At exactly midnight, the young man heard the library door open. He lifted his head from the file he had been looking over and caught Alfred's eye.

"Master Bruce would like you to meet him in the Cave."

Tim placed his hands on the table rising and made his way to the Cave mentally going over all the facts he had just tried to cram in his brain for the last day.

"Head of the Crows."

Tim jumped at the voice in the darkness. "Mic Paralos. Age 23. Last known address was 1500 Warren Ave with his girlfriend, Andrea Engle. Came into leadership when…"

Bruce interrupted Tim's speech. "5th and North."

The teenager's brain began to race as he searched for those key words. "Drop-off for Chris Garen," Tim finally began. "Garen has been a known heroine seller for the last three years."

"Bruce Stinth."

"Head of the Jackals since 1990."

"The old Crusty Creams warehouse."

"Site of the last break-in by Squirrelly Joe a.k.a. Joe McAndrews."

For the next three hours, the question and answering continued in like-manner. Tim took every question with a calmness that he didn't know he possessed. For everything Bruce threw at him, the teenager had an answer. At the end of it all, Tim felt his brain swarming, but smile softy when Bruce, with no preamble, told him that he did good and that next month he'd get the Arkham files.

As Tim made his way out of the Manor, Alfred's voice stopped his exit.

"It took Masters Dick and Jason three weeks to be able to answer even half of those questions. I believe I am beginning to better understand why Master Bruce chose you and what he sees in you."

The young man swallowed the lump in his throat. "Thank you Alfred that… that means a lot."


	19. Reality

_Author's Notes_: And it keeps going. I'm heading out of town, just for 4 days this time, for a wedding, but will get back to posting when back home. Till then…!

_Reality_

March:

As promised, a month after the he'd begun receiving Bruce's common criminal files, Tim came to the Cave and found a note on the Bat Computer.

'Open file 11'

Tim took a seat, opened the proper file and instantly pictures of the worst of Gotham popped up. The teenager was certain Bruce did that on purpose to shock him. Quickly getting some organization, Tim began to file through the multiple "celebrities."

For the most part the young man found the villains of the city interesting in a terrifying way. There were some of the most intricate and disturbed people Tim had ever read about.

Charging through the files, Tim's mind quickly filed away information, but, in reality, he wasn't really reading in detail. He was on a mission.

Finding the folder, Tim swallowed before he opened it. A large white face, with glowing green hair and a smile that could stop anyone in the tracks, filled up the computer screen. This was the face of death.

The Joker.

Tim minimized the picture and began to shuffle through the hundred of files. His eyes finally fell on what he'd been searching for.

Ethiopia.

There it sat oh so innocently. The mouse wavered over it and finally, almost as more of a twitch, Tim doubled clicked the icon. A password screen pooped up and the teenager instantly felt his brain begin to do the computer whiz thing that it did.

In two hours, he'd managed to find a back way into the file.

A moment later, he wish he hadn't.

"Oh my God," Tim said as images on top of images flooded the screen over-lapping one another. In all of them the teenager could see the bloodied, disfigured, and obviously dead image of Jason Todd.

His Robin costume was torn and bloodied. His mask sat eschewed on his face, blood dripping over the top of it. _He looks so young_, Tim thought.

And then the reality sunk in. The young man felt his heart rate increase and his chest constrict. _I'm having a panic attack_, he thought. Images of himself, laying bloodied and dying on some floor flew through his mind. _There's no reason to think I'm better than Jason. I could die just like him. I'm _going _to die just like him._

It was in the middle of this panic attack, that Alfred came downstairs after receiving a call from Bruce. He found Tim with his palms flat on the computer consol, breathing quickly and pale. Seeing what images filled the screen, the English man moved quickly and exited the file.

Tim turned to Alfred with wide-eyes. "He was killed," he whispered.

Alfred placed a warm hand on the teenager's shoulder. "He was, but you aren't him. That won't happen to you."

Embarrassingly, Tim felt tears rise in his eyes. "How do you know?"

Alfred smiled and took the young man into his arms. "Because I just do," he said and held the shaking boy until he calmed enough to get back to the work that waited for him.

………


	20. Flying With the Best of Them

_Author's Notes: _Back again and this time I'm here to stay until we get to September. Thank you for all the terrific feedback!

This month's bit is quite AU, but I just had to write. :-)

_Flying With the Best of Them_

April:

Tim had begun to feel a lot more comfortable in the Manor and around Bruce as of late. Granted, it had taken over a year to get to such a place, but over the last few months, the teenager no longer felt nervous as he came to the Manor.

Although today was proving to be a major exception, but Tim felt it was warranted.

He wasn't sure how it happened; even with all he knew of the Bruce and Dick there were things that were even out of his league. Perhaps it was all Alfred, but no matter how it happened Dick Grayson, of the _Flying Graysons_, was coming over to watch Tim's gymnastic work.

The teenager had come to the Cave three hours ago because he was unable to sit still in his own home. And he had nervously walked around every aspect of the Cave, warmed-up thoroughly (_twice_) and now sat twitching in anticipation.

"You're gonna give yourself an aneurism is you don't sit still," Dick said with a smirk as he came up beside Tim. The younger man jumped in his seat and then to his feet.

"Uh, hey," he said rather sheepishly.

Dick shook his head. "You came to my apartment professing all you knew about Batman and Robin and our dark secrets, but _now_ you're nervous in front of me? Talk about ironic."

"You're a Flying Grayson!" Tim said quickly as he gestured to the bars, impressed that his voice didn't crack. "How can I ever come close to that?"

Dick didn't say a thing, but quickly jogged to the bars and began swinging. He worked himself to the top bar and stopped in a perfect handstand. "By not being me," he balanced on one arm. "Jason wasn't me, Bruce isn't me and you aren't me. We all find our own place in this crazy world and you will too." Swinging downwards, Dick circled once and then landed on his feet. He turned back to Tim, "Now show me what _you've_ got."

The teenager re-took his seat and began to shed his track pants.

"You know that Bruce wouldn't just let you become a part of this just because you know our names, right?"

Tim looked at Dick and shrugged, "Yeah I know. I mean I doubt he would kick my butt so much and so regularly just to toss me out." The teenager shrugged, "Well, not that it takes him that much energy, but still."

Dick chuckled at that last bit. "You're here cause he wants you to be."

Tim moved to the bars and began a quick warm-up. He flowed through the moves and releases, heeding Bruce's advice from months ago and took risks knowing that, here in the safety of the Cave even under Dick's watchful eye, it was better to try and fail, but know than to not try and fail outside.

Tim began to feel himself loosen up and took the advice of Dick to do what _he_ was comfortable doing and to not try an imitate anyone else. Finishing the move on the bar, he landed a double, twisting flip perfectly and turned to face Dick expectedly.

The older man looked Tim over head to toe and then smiled. "Looks like this birdy's getting his own set of wings." Dick rubbed an affectionate hand over Tim's hair and ruffled the teenager's dark locks.

"Welcome to the Family, kiddo."


	21. To the Moon

_Author's notes: _Another AU piece here. Not much to say other than enjoy. :-)

_To the Moon_

May:

After having his brief training session with Dick, Tim wasn't certain who else he could meet that would top that.

He was about to find out.

Bruce had called Tim and told him to be at the Cave at two. The time was different; usually the teenager was at the Manor or Cave by six in the morning. Not questioning, and relishing the chance to sleep in, Tim did as he was told and stood alone in the Cave waiting for Bruce.

He hadn't changed into his costume, not certain what was happening this afternoon and so he found himself a place in front of the Bat Computer and waited. He didn't wait long when he heard footsteps.

Rising, he turned and spoke as he did so. "What's the plan for today?" As he finished the question, Tim's mouth fell open. "Uh, hello Mr. Kent," he said softly.

"Ah, you must be Timothy," Clark said in way of greeting and held out his hand. Tim shook the appendage.

"And you're…_Superman_," the teenager said, not hiding the astonishment in his voice.

Clark laughed. "And I hear you're going to be Robin."

Tim smiled lightly hoping the blush he felt rising hadn't reached his face, "Maybe."

Superman ignored slight hesitation in the young man's voice and, instead, moved to the computer and took a seat in Bruce's chair. "Bruce wanted me to tell you to suit up."

"Why?" Tim questioned, he curiosity peaked wondering where Bruce was and why Clark was giving the orders.

Clark smiled that Superman smile of his at Tim. "You're going to be meeting the team."

The teenager absently nodded and walked to the costume vault as he heard Clark head upstairs. It wasn't until he was mid-way through putting on his pants that he realized what Clark had said. Tripping over his own feet, he hurried out of the vault and found Batman waiting for him. Not even wondering where Bruce had come from, the teenager stood in his half-clothed Robin suit, eyes wide with wonder.

"The team? The _Justice_ _League_?"

Bruce turned and looked at the half-dressed teenager. "Yes. Clark felt it was important that you feel comfortable within the hero community."

"I'm not even a hero yet," Tim said as he gestured to his mis-aligned costume. "I only wear this because you want me to get use to it. I don't deserve this yet. I'm not Robin."

The older man pushed a few buttons on the computer panel. "You're right, you aren't Robin. You still have a lot to learn. But you will be one day and, when you are, you will fall into a role that has already been pre-defined. I don't want you to feel confined by that, though."

Tim realized suddenly that he hadn't given much thought to being a part of a greater community; he had only ever wanted to be Robin. He knew that Dick had been a Titan (the leader as a matter of fact) and Jason as well, but Tim hadn't ever pictured himself on or leading a team. The Titans didn't need him and he knew the younger crime fighters out there weren't ready for a team. And so, he realized perhaps for the first time, he would be put into a more pre-defined role than the other Robins and a part of him was thankful Bruce seemed aware of this fact. Already there was enough pressure on him (mainly put there by himself) to live up to the legend left behind by his predecessors, he didn't want others in the community to compare him to Dick and Jason as well.

Bruce's voice broke through the teenager's thoughts.

"You will be Robin, but you will be your own Robin. In order for this to be accomplished, Clark felt," Tim shook his at the mild annoyance that seemed to work its way into Clark's name, "that the hero community should get to know you early on. Now, get dressed and be ready to go in ten minutes."

Tim left, did as he was told and, exactly ten minutes later, found himself on the way to, well, the moon. As he traveled he suddenly was glad the Clark made Bruce bring him to meet the Justice League as he felt his excitement build at the prospect of meeting Wonder Woman and the Flash.

The tube came to a halt and, after a glare from Bruce, Tim hid his smile as he stepped through the open doors and took a deep breath.

It was time he created his own image.


	22. Child's Play

_Child's Play_

June:

Keeping his eyes firmly shut as promise, Tim counted to ten and then opened them. Scanning the city, he found what he was looking for and, grabbing his grappler, he took a running start and leapt. Unlike the first time he had gone off the side of a building, Tim hands and brain were already working on autopilot.

The grappler went out and his body moved itself to get the most out of the move. He hit his first stopping point with a low roll that brought him to his feet. Tim moved slowly until he reached the center of the building's roof. Turning 360 degrees, the teenager waited until a movement caught his eye.

_Three buildings to my left, _Tim thought as he took a leap to the first building, sliding a little more than he liked on the loose gravel. Righting himself, Tim leapt off that building and used a hook-line to grab a fire escape. The fragile escape, however, didn't hold his weight well and the teenager felt his line go slack. Cursing, but remaining calm, Tim released another grappler and caught the building's ledge slowing his descent.

Dropping the five feet to the ground (and not taking a moment to think about how close he had been to hitting said ground) Tim made his way back up to the top of the building via drainage pipes. Up top again, and knowing he had lost valuable time, Tim looked to see if his target was where it had been. It wasn't, but it also hadn't moved far.

Checking his grapplers (he still had four left, having to leave the first one behind) Tim leapt again. Executing somersaults that had become almost perfected after months in the Cave, Tim nearly flew through the air. He made his way to the target building and arrived just as his target took off. The chase had now become one of speed.

Landing in a crotch, Tim waited a second to see where his quarry was heading, before sprinting. He grabbing a hook, not having the time to work on releasing a grappler, Tim threw it at a building to his left. Leaping, he used the line as a vine, swinging in a wide arch, he was brought around the corner of the building. Landing on a thin ledge of a slightly shorter building, noting his target had following the path he thought, Tim ran again keeping an eye on his quarry who ran on the roof's top so was lower and slightly ahead. Just as the target ready itself to leap off the building, Tim dove, arms first, and successfully grabbed his target's knees, causing them both to tumble on the hard roof surface.

The two skidded and rolled, until they finally separated both crouched on one knee facing each other.

"Very good," Batman said. "You had a little hold up back there," he added in observation.

"The fire escape didn't hold."

Bruce made an 'ah' like sound and rose from his crouched position. "So now, I'm it."

With only a smile, Tim turned on heel and began his allowed ten-second head start at a sprint.

Who knew that tag could ever be so educational…


	23. And Now, In Real Time

_Author's Notes_: Hey I'm actually posting this month in the month that it really is. Go me. ;-) Anyhow, thank you for the continued feedback. I am happy to hear that everyone is enjoying the quick looks at Robin's training. That being said, only July, August and September left. Amazing how fast two years can go by…

_And Now, In Real Time_

July:

"What do you see?"

Taking a deep breath, Tim removed his flashlight and moved it around the room

"There's broken glass inside so the window was shattered from the outside." Tim moved closer and inspected one of the larger spikes of glass left behind. "There's some clothing here; it looks like part of a red jacket."

Moving away from the window, Tim turned and moved his light further into the apartment. "Chairs upturned, papers littered; there was a scuffle that lead," he stepped further and moved the light around a corner, "into a bedroom."

Tim moved into the bedroom, his light fell on the single victim of the apartment. The teenager could see that the fight had lead into here and ended here. Tim swallowed and moved closer to the body. "A young man in his late twenties, maybe early thirties. Shot once in the upper torso and again at close range in the forehead."

Tim shined his light at the man's hands and then ever so gingerly moved the hand and it laid flat. Cocking his head, he looked closer. "He was the burglar," he concluded. "His hands have the cuts from the window on them." Stepping back, he looked the body over and noted the red coat. Bending back down, he spoke, "His coat is also missing that piece that is snagged on the window."

Looking at Batman, Tim waited.

"The owner, George Matekai, called the police an hour ago saying someone had broken in to his apartment and he had shot him."

The teenager nodded and followed Bruce out of the bedroom. The task had been simple, a very straightforward murder case, but it had been Tim's first one. Leaving the apartment, knowing that for the next month he would be dragged in and out of different murder scenes, Tim found Alfred waiting.

Tim got into the car and with shaking hands put on his seatbelt.

"Sir?"

"I'm fine, Alfred." Tim lied as he stared straight ahead out the car window. He had seen dead bodies before, Bruce had made sure of that, but something about seeing the scene in total, knowing that only hours ago that person had been alive made something in the teenager cringe. Tim shook his head; if he got this worked-up about a burglar, how would he ever handle something like a child? He had read the files; he knew what people were capable of.

"I don't think I can do this," Tim then admitted in a soft voice.

"It is never an easy thing to do," Alfred said as he drove. "And truly, I would be more worried for you if it become easy. For now, I recommend you close your eyes and prepare yourself for a hard month." Tim nodded absently knowing it would be a long four weeks as Batman dragged him to and from multiple crime scenes, teaching the young man how to survey a scene, put pieces together and solve the crime usually before the police.

Closing his eyes as Alfred said Tim didn't see the butler look over at him. Shaking his head sadly, the old man wondered how many more young men he would have to see lose their innocence at far too young of an age.


	24. The Pinnacle

_Author's Notes_: At this point, I would alert your attention to the first _October_ posting (especially the sentence that begins: "_Bruce grabbed a baseball and tossed it in his hand."_) That will give you the set-up for this month's post.

Enjoy and remember, one more to go and then we have our Robin :-)

_The Pinnacle_

August:

Even though he had been terrified the first time he held a bat-a-rang and a near disaster his first jump off a building. Not to mention the fact that he'd nearly decapitated Bruce the first time he'd thrown a 'rang at someone, Tim found he was strangely calm about all of this.

He actually felt _ready_.

As sounds of a struggle reached him, Tim looked over the ledge and smiled at what he saw.

On the street, the teenager saw a man holding a gun to the head of another. Without a moment's hesitation, he teenager jumped headfirst off the building.

Tim counted the windows in his peripheral vision making certain to track how close he was to the ground, while he kept most of his sight on the pair across the street. Needing to slow his descent, Tim turned so his back faced the hard ground below him and released a grappler. Trusting it to hook appropriately, Tim held the grappler's handle tightly in one hand while he prepared a 'rang in the other. Feeling the line begin to go taunt and slow his downward movement, Tim threw the bat-a-rang at the perp's gun.

Not seeing if the 'rang hit ("If you don't trust your aim then it _will_ be off," Bruce had lecture more than once) Tim turned his body around so he was feet first, released his grapple and landed in a crouch. Looking over at the perp, he was satisfied to see the gun laying off to the side and the victim retreating; his bat-a-rang has successfully met its target.

The young man moved towards the perp smiling and was surprised when the man lunged quickly. Tim ducked under the fist and rolled.

"What are you doing?" He asked, but no answer came. Instead, the perp charged again. This time a hit broke through Tim's defenses before he was able to back-flip out of the way causing him to land awkwardly. A kick at his feet ended with Tim flat on his back.

Noticing the heel coming to his face, Tim stopped thinking and moved instinctively. Rolling, he kicked back and was satisfied when his foot connected with the man's mid-section. Hand-springing over, Tim grabbed a bolo, holding it defensively.

"Stop," he ordered, but the man didn't listen and Tim flipped backwards again as he released the bolo. It caught the perp in the legs, twisting around and causing him to fall to the ground. Not waiting a moment, Tim jumped on the man's back and had him instantly restrained.

Stepping off, the teenager shook his head. "What was that?"

The man on the ground rolled and sat up, looking the younger man directly in the eyes. "There was a goal, but merely stopping the gun from firing isn't the end."

Tim bent down, removing the bolo and restraints. Holding out a hand, the teenager helped Bruce to his feet.

"I hate you," he said with a smile.

"I wanted to see how you'd react to a bit of a surprise."

"And?"

Bruce dusted himself off while he spoke. "You hesitated, but regained your composure quickly and effectively. If it wasn't me I don't think that hesitation would have been happened."

Tim held his breath and waited a moment longer.

Bruce looked him in the eyes. "It was acceptable."

That was all the teenager could ever hope for.

………

To clarify, the part of _October_ that I was pointing people to was this:

"_Bruce grabbed a baseball and tossed it in his hand. 'You must be able to throw a bat-a-rang with enough accuracy to remove a gun the is being held to a hostage's head from a hundred feet while falling head first and releasing a grappling line.'"_

The aim of this post was to quickly show that Tim, many months later, reached the level of grappling and bat-a-rang handling Bruce had strove for since the very beginning. Kind fun how everything turns back around in a neat little circle, eh? ;-)


	25. There and Back Again

_There and Back Again_

September:

This was it.

Tim looked himself over in the costume smiling lightly. It was amazingly surreal.

The journey to get to where he stood right now had been long. It was almost exactly two years ago that the young man came to the Manor for his first day of training. He had been through the longest and hardest days of his life at this house. And now, he was standing in the Robin suit – _his suit_ – getting ready to fulfill his first night of duty.

It was honestly a dream come true.

And a near-nightmare.

Tim had never felt such pressure on his shoulders before; he was supposed to protect the weak, fight for those who couldn't fight. He was Robin.

But he was also a teenaged boy and how much could he honestly do?

Clasping the cape to his neck, Tim shifted so it flowed over his body obscuring all the color from his costume. The young man felt a shudder run through him as he stared at this darker look to his suit. Without the color, he felt he looked more like Batman than one should. The darkness, however, was a strong reminder of what awaited him outside the Manor walls.

Gotham was a dark place; he had realized that even before he knew of Batman and Robin. Everyday on the news one was reminded of how nasty of a place the city was. And after being exposed to the harsher truths of the city, Tim actually felt needed. Robin had a place in Gotham and now it was his turn to fulfill that role. Teenager or not, Tim had been chosen for this great responsibility and it was now his duty to fulfill it to the best of his abilities.

Moving quickly, the cape fell back over his shoulders exposing the red, green and yellow of the suit. The brightness fitted him better; fitted _Robin_ better. Batman was the darkness, Robin was supposed to be the light. They were made to even each other out; opposites even while they fought on the same side.

Tim straightened the 'R' on his chest and doubled checked all the compartments of his suit. Finding everything in order, he walked out of the costume vault, all thoughts of doubt safely tucked inside of him and hidden.

He found Bruce, in full Batman mode, waiting for him. The Dark Knight stood in all his glory and, though he had seen Batman many times before, Tim felt a sense in pride rise that he hadn't felt before. This was his mentor and his partner. He would fight along side this man through thick and thin.

Tim looked at the Batmobile and then back at Bruce. The older man looked the teenager over once and then spoke, "Shall we?"

The young man's answer was a quick nod and a large smile once Bruce's back was turned.

At two, the crimefighters returned to the Manor. The night had been uneventful for Gotham. A mugging, one attempted rape, and a B&E. Tim had the pleasure of knocking out his first real bad guy, a bumbling burglar, and kept up with Batman the entire night (granted Bruce probably moved slower than usually, but still…).

It had been simply amazing.

And perfect.

Never before had Tim felt that he was doing something so _right_. For this evening, his mind had been an utter blank; every move he made felt like instinct. It felt like he had been doing this his entire life. He never once doubted his presence in the night nor the fact that he could truly do good.

Tim stood in the Cave in his sweatpants and waited for Bruce to come out of the costume vault. As he waited, the teenager moved over to Jason's costume. Walking up to it, Tim placed his palm on the glass and stared up to where Jason's face would have been.

"I hope you know that I'm not trying to replace you," He said softly and with a hint of self-consciousness in his voice. "I don't want to do that and there's now way I could anyhow. I just…I just want to do the best I can." Tim dropped his hand with a sigh and a shake of his head. "I just hope I make him proud," it was obvious the _him_ Tim was talking about.

The young man turned quickly when he heard a throat clear behind him. Bruce walked up next to Tim in front of the memorial.

"He was impulsive and I knew that. He wasn't fit to be on the streets, but he… he had an amazing ability to get his way." The older man paused for a moment and then finally spoke again. "He could have been a great Robin, and I saw that greatness appear once in a while, but he was unable to calm himself or his anger and that would have always held him back."

Bruce stopped talking and walked away from the case without another word leaving Tim to absorb the man's words. Tim continued to stare at the Robin suit wondering if Bruce was making a comparison between him and Jason or a contrast and, really, what it all meant.

As if reading the young man's mind, Bruce spoke. "You did good. You'll _continue_ to do good."

Tim turned away from Jason's suit and caught Bruce's eye. "And," the older man added, "You do."

It took the teenager until Bruce was in the Manor to understand that last statement remembering his own last words to Jason. Smiling, Tim made his way upstairs as well, sparing once last look from the top of the stairs to the Cave that would become his second home. As he fell asleep, he briefly wondered where this Robin career would take him.

Had someone told him what he would do, see, and experience in only two years as Robin, Tim would have laughed in their face and told them that was a hilarious joke.

This first night was merely the beginning of a never-ending adventure that would take Tim to hell and back; that would beat him down till he was uncertain he would ever have the strength to rise again.

It would also show Tim the power he had inside, the amazing ability he possessed to survive against seemingly insurmountable odds. He would become one of the greatest leaders in the hero world and one of the most gifted young minds of his age.

As Robin he would make friends that would become his family and he would tear the family he already had apart. Eventually, after pulling them farther away then they ever had been, Robin would bring he and his father closer, if only for a depressingly short amount of time than they thought possible.

He would find and lose love many times.

And through it all, he would know and keep one thing close to his heart.

He had earned this.

He was Robin.

And in the darkest times that would be enough.

………

The End.

I hope everyone enjoyed this story. It was amazingly fun to write… I think I liked it so much because I didn't have to try and connect all the pieces that I wanted to put in the story in any sort of cohesiveness. Okay, that probably makes the story sort of a cop out, but oh well. It was over 30 pages like this and I could only imagine (okay not really…) the length it would have been had this been one long story if that was even possible.

Thank you to all my reviewers. I know only getting a 500-ish word chapter can be a little disheartening and lacking in story/plot, but I'm glad to see so many people did stick it out. I think there are hundreds more stories that could be born from Tim's training, but I can only do so much ;-) Or really my schoolwork can only take so much. Thus, I hope that this story might have inspired some people to think of their own short tales of training and whatnot.

A special thank you to the following reviews who were there through all (or def. most) of the months:

Tressa, batfan7, Karin/Carin (I'm not sure if you were the same person, but I went with it…), Delia Ra'Nar, Classical Brunette, and Indy Tarquinson

Thank you again… it's been a real slice of heaven.


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